To Change
by Upside-Up
Summary: He’s standing now, punctuating his points with his fingers on the table, spitting out the word ‘California’ like it’s worse to him than Canada." Post 'The Rough Patch,' Robin decides to make a change. One shot.


"California?"

It startles her a little. She nearly chokes on her toothbrush. She spits into the sink and rinses her mouth before turning to face him.

It's been a few weeks since they had broken up and, by all appearances, things had been fine. Then her show had been cancelled. And that nomadic itch of hers had returned. She had been in New York for five years now, after all. She can't remember having been anywhere for more than two since she had left her pop-star life behind.

"Yeah," she avoids his eyes and heads to the kitchen, pours herself a cup of coffee.

His voice is soft when he says "I will never understand how you can drink that with toothpaste-mouth."

"I'm a mystery," she replies and plops down at the table, picking up Ted's discarded newspaper and still avoiding eye contact.

"So," he's standing behind her, hands in his pockets, "California."

She nods. He waits a long moment for her to say something, even to look at him, before he takes a seat to her right.

"When?"

"Soon."

"Why?"

She sighs and sets down the paper.

"I just need a change, okay?"

"Why?"

She rubs a hand over her face, feels how tired she must look. Her neck muscles hurt.

"I've been here for five years, now. It's time for something new."

"Then get a hair cut or something," he says, and he sounds upset.

She shakes her head and tries, fails to smile. "Not the same thing."

"But you love New York," he argues, confused. She knows it must be hard to understand. Her life was here, after all. "What about us?"

"You guys will be fine without me, Barney." He looks at her, dumbfounded. "I'm just… played out here. My career is going nowhere, my love life is going nowhere; we drink at the same bars and do the same things over and over again. I feel stagnant. I want something new."

"So you think California will fix all that? What's there that isn't here?"

She's been waiting for him to start spouting rules and theories but he doesn't. He's just confused and, she realizes, a little hurt.

"It's not about what California has that New York doesn't. It's what California doesn't have." He just tilts his head. "Nothing is new here, anymore. I do the same things with the same people all the time. I date the same guys, relapse with the same guys. I try to climb a career ladder and fail again and again. New York has started to feel like a pit of failure and it's crushing me."

"And California," he starts, his voice husky, "you'll be happier there?"

She starts to answer, but he isn't finished. "You'll find people who are better than your best friends just because they're new? You'll somehow magically get the perfect job? You'll go get a tan and learn to surf and that will make you happy? Your perfect guy is just gonna be waiting for you in California?" He's standing now, punctuating his points with his fingers on the table, spitting out the word 'California' like it's worse to him than Canada.

"Maybe!"

He stops, stares at her incredulously. He sits down again and his shoulders slump. "I didn't realize you were so unhappy."

"I'm not, not really, I just need a change. You of all people should understand that. You're constantly reinventing yourself."

"Yeah, but in New York."

"Well, you change yourself, I change my location. What's the difference?"

He swallows hard. "I thought you hated east-coast surfer-types."

She shrugs her shoulders.

"So your perfect guy's a beach bum, then?"

She shakes her head and feels a lump suddenly form in her throat. "Barney, it isn't about meeting the perfect guy. If there's anyone in the world for me, it's you. And if I can't make that work, then something needs to change."

He looks at her, pain visible in his features, and doesn't say a word. She sighs. "I'm sorry, Barney."

"Robin, we're your friends. Your best friends. You can't be serious about this."

She takes his hand in his, hating what she's about to say. "Are you sure? Because lately… I don't know. I don't have anything in common with Marshall and Lily anymore. And you and Ted, you're not my friends, you're my ex-boyfriends. And maybe I want to go somewhere where nobody knows all my secrets."

He squeezes her fingers and brings them to his lips, kissing them gently. "I don't want you to leave," he says. Bringing out the big guns.

"I know. I'm sorry."

They sit together, hand in hand, for a long time. Finally, Barney can't seem to bear it any longer. He pulls one of his hands from her grasp and touches her face. "I love you, you know."

"I know," she repeats. "I love you too."

"You'll be happy in California?"

"Maybe," she shrugs and wonders where these tears came from. "I'll be different. Different is good."

"I don't want you to go."

She wants to ask him for a reason to stay, but that isn't _her_; it isn't _them_. So instead, she kisses him. He kisses her back unhesitatingly and she thinks for a moment that if she could find something that feels like this in California, she'll have everything. They sit together, foreheads touching, and she lets the tears drip to the floor.

"I'll miss you," he whispers, his voice thick.

"I'll miss you, too," she whispers back.


End file.
